


Dividers

by Storm337



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Natasha Romanoff (mentioned) - Freeform, Peggy Carter (mentioned) - Freeform, Sam Wilson (mentioned) - Freeform, Sharon Carter (mentioned) - Freeform, Skinny!Steve, based off art, domestic modern au, grocery shopping!, punk!bucky, shrinkyclinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9579341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm337/pseuds/Storm337
Summary: Based off of a Stucky comic by coldcigarettes.In which Steve is so much more attractive than Bucky a cashier puts a divider right between their groceries. Steve is, understandably, not happy with this.





	

“Milk?” **  
**

“We’ve got a li’l less than half.”

“Eggs?”

“Three.”

“Bread?”

“Just the ends again.”

    Steve taps the pen against the edge of the counter, brow furrowing as he looks scrutinizingly at the grocery list. Bucky folds his arms and leans next to him, peering over at Steve’s immaculate cursive. He surveys the sparse tabletop, lingering on the big vase of lilies that Peggy got Steve the last time they were at one of his gallery parties. They’ll need to add more water soon, if they have any hope of keeping the poor things alive. Shame too. They’re so pretty, if not a little lonely. They have that gallery opening to go to next week. He could add some hydrangeas and pass the purchase off as a ‘ _congratulations on getting your art into another gallery_ ’, assuming Steve questions it. But what color….

“Vegetables?”

“One really sad looking bell pepper in a drawer. I don’t think your leftover salad from lunch with Sharon counts.”

“It doesn’t. Fruit?”

“Those brown bananas you put in the freezer and a few oranges.”

“Right, banana nut muffins for Sam. Uh….snacks?”

    Bucky meanders to the pantry and throws the doors open dramatically. Some crackers for all the fancy cheeses Steve loves to get and, inevitably, don’t get along with his stomach, are lined up. He shakes the boxes to make sure they’re decently full and ignores the sound Steve makes. Peanut butter that Steve can’t have, but Bucky carefully indulges in every now and then, sits next to them. Still mostly full, he remembers, but he can never have too much peanut butter. Eating it by the spoonful tends to deplete the supplies quickly. Cans of beans, some liters of soda that Nat left for them, brownie and cake mixes, oils, spices, the nuts for the muffins….

“Nearly out of popcorn,” Bucky calls, pulling the two last packets out of the cardboard box. He tosses the box onto the table for Steve to smooth out and put in the recycling.

“Okay, what else?”

“Depends, how indulgent do you want to get?”

    A pout settles on Steve’s lips, the pen tip tapping along the off-white tiles decorating their kitchen. He tips his head from side to side, hair flopping back and forth. Bucky knows he’s staring like a damn dope, but Steve has the best contemplative expression. Mildly annoyed, yet cute to a fault. Almost as deadly as his puppy dog eyes, but he was far too polite to use them as the true weapons of mass destruction that they were.

“We can get the essentials and then browse,” he declares, satisfied, jotting down a useless note at the bottom of the list.

“Does that mean I can get nutella?” Bucky asks hopefully, closing the pantry doors and coming to stand behind Steve. He wraps his left arm around Steve’s stomach to cup his bony hip, while his right fingers smooth Steve’s hair back into place. He gets an exasperated huff for his efforts but Steve turns around in his arms with a smile on his face. Bucky tips his head down as Steve lifts his chin so that their lips meet perfectly, soft, sweet, and quick.

“I _suppose_.”

    Despite the warm weather, Bucky throws on a leather jacket. Steve clips his dog tags on for him without catching his hair and then, stubbornly, rolls the sleeves of Bucky’s jacket up because ‘ _it looks better, Buck_ ’. It never ceases to amuse Bucky how opposite they look; him, with his long hair, ripped jeans, and leather jacket, and Steve with his short parted locks, tucked-in button up shirt, and pressed slacks. He can’t help press a kiss to the top of Steve’s head while they load reusable bags into the trunk of Steve’s car.  
How’d he get so damn lucky?

“Sap,” Steve teases.

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

    The grocery store is quiet and slow, with a few patrons waiting impatiently at the single open register. Even with no one paying any attention to them, Bucky still puts his left hand into his jacket pocket. Steve doesn’t say anything, just dumps their bags into the shopping cart barely shorter than he is and takes Bucky’s free hand. Slim artist fingers squeeze lightly and Bucky rubs his calloused thumb along the inside of Steve’s bony wrist, feeling for the gentle pulse of his vein.

    Before Steve, Bucky didn’t go grocery shopping until he absolutely had to. Literally last second, when his usually sparsely stocked fridge was completely barren. Even then he made his trips quick; it didn’t take a lot of food to feed one sullen vet, and not nearly enough to warrant making a list. Some milk, creamer, more coffee, maybe some cookies and chips or popcorn. Fruit, if he was in a particularly good mood. More often than not Bucky was too tired to cook for himself, so meats, vegetables, and other perishables would simply rot in his apartment. The sheer amount of take out boxes in his trash can at any given day could probably give Clint a run for his money, if he truly ate as much pizza as he said he did.  
But then Natasha introduced Bucky to Steve. They started dating and, well, here they were. At the grocery store, getting actually substantial food. It put a little smile on Bucky’s face and he swung their arms lazily while they walked.

    Non-refrigerated foods first. Steve debates between two different brands of whole wheat bread, reading the ingredients on the back with squinted eyes. Bucky chooses one at random and plucks it from Steve’s grasp to drop it into their cart, along with cinnamon raisin bagels and regular white bread. Bucky puts in boxes of K-cup dark roast coffee and Steve carefully picks out his favorite cartons of chai tea. They wander up and down the aisles, idly grabbing whatever catches their eye and then arguing with the other on if they should really get it or not. Pasta is a yes, but instant mac and cheese is a no from Steve. Canned corn, green beans, and diced tomatoes are a yes, but Bucky puts his foot down on canned fruit. Bucky does get his nutella, even though it’s the smallest tub on the shelf. Steve checks off the list every now and then, but he isn’t really following it much anymore.

    While picking out cereal, Bucky wraps one arm around Steve’s neck and plasters himself to the smaller man’s back. He rocks them idly from side to side, humming absently to the slow music crackling from the overhead speakers.

“Heaven….I’m in heaven….” Bucky sings softly into Steve’s ear, enjoying the giggle that involuntarily escapes his boyfriend. He rests his chin on top of Steve’s head and hums contentedly away, not at all bothered by Steve taking boxes off the shelves. Gradually he relaxes against Steve, putting his weight on the blonde until he’s nearly bent over and starts squirming.

“Damn it Buck, you’re heavy, get off!”

“Don’ wanna.”

“You’re gonna crush me ya mook.”

“Would that be such a bad way to go?”

“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, weaseling his way out of Bucky’s hold, who nearly tips forward into the cereals. Steve just laughs harder and punches Bucky’s flesh shoulder affectionately. He pulls a box of cereal for himself off of the shelf and dumps it into the cart, hip checking Bucky as he goes by.

“You’re the worst.”

“I am the greatest.”

“Absolutely terrible.”

“The most fantastic.”

“Does Mr. Fantastic want cereal or not?”

    Fresh produce next; blackberries, a few apples, a cantaloupe, a honeydew, and green grapes that Steve tries first before deciding on the best bag. Bucky stocks up on plums while Steve grimaces at the price of strawberries. Heirloom tomatoes are on sale, much to Steve’s delight, and so is broccoli, much to Bucky’s disgust. Together, shoulders touching and hands brushing, they pick out onions, bell peppers, carrots, and zucchini. The bags of mixed greens look too wilted and old, so Steve opts to get a full head of lettuce to chop up themselves.

    The misters turn on with a rattling _shhhhh_ while Steve’s looking through the spinach bundles. He jerks back and shakes his head, huffing at the light coat of water dripping down his hair and hands. The shopping cart rattles behind him, Bucky distractedly dropping a bundle of fresh bananas on top of the bread. He’s turning a small bottle of salad dressing in his hand and the opportunity is just too good to pass up.

“Hey Stevie, should we make our own or- _fuck_!” Bucky yelps, nearly dropping the bottle when Steve presses his cold hands against Bucky’s cheeks, pinching lightly. Bucky scampers back and rubs at the damp skin with the sleeve of his jacket, which only spreads the water around. Steve, giggling, pushes the cart over and leans up to kiss the tip of Bucky’s nose. His pout does not go away.

“You li’l piece of shit,” he hisses to Steve after a mother with two young boys gives him a seething glare from by the potatoes.

“Love ya, Buck,” Steve replies, putting spinach and dressing into their cart.

    Finally the frozen and cold items. The milk is mostly for Bucky, but they cook with it enough to warrant buying a gallon jug. Sliced cheese, cottage cheese, yogurt, butter, and creamer are pushed to one side of the cart. Steve picks out some frozen dinners and pizzas, in case he doesn’t want to cook and Bucky doesn’t want to pick up or call takeout. Bucky takes the cart to get chicken breasts and sliced meats while Steve checks the day old section at the bakery. He picks out a bag of semi-hard rolls and makes a beeline for the icecream and dessert section, because if he’s not there while Bucky is picking out things, then…well…

“Okay, so, how about…. French silk, vanilla bean, double chocolatey chip, peanut butter crunch, and mint chip?”

“Bucky.”

“Or, okay, or we do french silk, peanut butter chocolate swirl, mint moose tracks, and vanilla bean?”

“ _Bucky_.”

“Wait, wait, they’ve got-”

“Bucky!”

    It’s a little hilarious, watching such a tough looking guy sheepishly turn and aim pleading eyes at a runt like Steve. It’s adorable, but Steve isn’t falling for it this time, especially since Bucky’s nutella is sitting in the cart. He folds his arms and fixes Bucky with his best ‘you’re an adult, act like it’ look. Bucky throws his head back and whines, which doesn’t help his case at all.

“One flavor.”

“Steeeeeve.”

“One. Flavor.”

“Ugh, _fine_. You’re such a buzz kill.”

    Vanilla bean goes into the cart and, after much debating and a lot of lip quivering from Bucky, french silk. Steve picks up a small bottle of chocolate syrup at the end of the aisle, just to wipe the pout off of Bucky’s lips. The kiss he gets on the cheek is nice too.

    They go up and down every aisle one more time to make sure they didn’t forget something or pass up a treat. Steve grabs the microwavable popcorn he forgot and lets Bucky pick two different kinds of chips. For once, they actually have black cherry jelly stocked so Steve allows Bucky to grab four jars of it. Any and all candy snuck into the cart by Bucky is unceremoniously dropped off on the nearest shelf. Steve checks the list one more time to mark things off and make absolutely sure they don’t forget anything else before going to the register.

    The line is, thankfully, not too long this time. Bucky feels a little bad when people queue behind them and watch him and Steve start piling their hoard onto the conveyor belt. The woman working the register, older with bobbed red hair and large pointed glasses that are more suitable for a library setting, doesn’t even bat an eye at them. She starts scanning items right away and Steve pulls out his phone, checking a text from Natasha, while Bucky stares longingly at the selection of gum and candy bars by the conveyor belt. Both of them are too distracted to see the woman slip a divider into their items.  
Steve looks over his shoulder, lips parted to ask a question, but stops when he makes eye contact with Bucky. He smiles, all bright and proud after a successful shopping trip. It’s contagious and, sappy as ever, Bucky’s face melts into what Steve loves to call his ‘ _adoring_ ’ expression. It adds heat to Steve’s cheeks and makes him hunch his shoulders a bit, like he can curl into himself and hide.

“That’ll be twenty-five dollars,” the woman drones.

    Steve blinks a few times and snaps back to the world around them, furrowing his brow when he processes the woman’s statement. He still double checks to make sure he’s not wrong though and looks back at the rest of their items. The divider makes him sneer.

“What? But this is ours too!”

“Yours?” the woman asks hesitantly, looking between Bucky and Steve. Her eyes linger on Bucky’s leather jacket and long hair, narrowing slightly. Steve most certainly does not miss that, and Bucky takes his left hand out of his pocket, ready to grab Steve should he start escalating things.

“Yes,” he says incredulously, taking Bucky’s metal hand,”We’re queueing together. Isn’t it _obvious_?”

    The woman stammers a bit, caught off guard, and Bucky has to turn his head away to keep her from seeing his snicker. Steve keeps a straight face and, refusing to let go of Bucky’s hand, goes back to scrolling through his phone. He responds to Natasha and checks the store website to make sure he didn’t miss any coupons or discounts. All the while Bucky keeps his head ducked and his eyes on Steve’s profile.

“Ya keep starin’ like that and your face’ll freeze,” Steve mutters, not taking his eyes off of his phone.

“Worth the risk,” Bucky responds before pressing a kiss behind Steve’s ear. It makes his cheeks heat up again and the woman scanning the rest of their items drops something into her lap. Steve pays and they pack their items into the reusable bags. Bucky throws his arm over Steve’s shoulders, hauling him close.

“Sorry Bucks,” Steve says, obviously loud. “I really don’t know _why_ this keeps happening!”

    He’s able to keep the laugh in until they’re out of the store and half way across the parking lot. Bucky bends over and Steve leans into him, cackling and getting stared at by the people in the parking lot.

“Oh god,” Bucky wheezes, wiping at his eyes with the back of his right hand, “The look on her face.”

“Should’a gotten a picture. But seriously, this is, what, the third time?”

“Fourth,” Bucky corrects with a small shrug, letting his head drop on top of Steve’s. “I can’t blame them, I mean…look at us.”

“What’cha mean by that?”

“Come on Stevie. Who’d believe a proper lookin’ guy like you’d hook up with a “rebel rouser” like me?”

“Someone who doesn’t make assumptions,” Steve huffs, stopping the cart by their car and grabbing Bucky by the lapels of his jacket. He pulls his boyfriend down for a crushing kiss that makes Bucky go weak at the knees. When Steve pulls away to get his keys out and unlock the car Bucky has to lean against the trunk for a second.

“And someone who knows about your sweet tooth.”

“Nothin as sweet as you,” Bucky purrs. He dances around the car to escape Steve’s fist aimed at his shoulder.

“God, that was terrible, you sap.”

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comic can be found here: http://coldcigarettes.tumblr.com/post/155362763256/you-know-how-i-never-do-comics-well-ive-done-one  
> My Tumblr: http://storm337.tumblr.com/
> 
> 2/6/17: Wow okay so this went over really well! Thank you guys so much~!


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